


Easy

by whendoestheshipsail



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean gets pie!, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dual POV, First Kiss, Frottage, Insecure Dean Winchester, M/M, Patient Castiel, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sam is totally cool with it, dean is an emotional hot mess, hopefully a bit more D/s going forward, hurray!, i'll update the tags as things get going, more emotional panic, surprisingly little gay panic, touch starved dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/whendoestheshipsail
Summary: Everyone wants Dean. It's just a universal truth and Cas has seen it happen over and over again.From Anna to Abbadon, Crowley to Amara, and, alas, even himself. Everyone wants Dean and puts the moves on him.And, in general, so long as it's not someone evil, Dean is pretty used to it and happy about it. Which gives Cas an idea. What would happen if he made a move on Dean?





	1. Chapter 1

Cas had his back to the bar because Dean always liked to see the room, constantly on the lookout for danger. And he didn’t care, if it made Dean feel comfortable then he was fine with it. But they’d each finished their beers several minutes ago, Dean had gotten up to get them new ones and hadn’t yet returned. There was only so long one could stare at a moose head and a sign for Fast Jack’s Ale.

He turned to look at the bar. Dean was easy to spot for two reasons, one because Cas was always able to find Dean as if he were some sort of homing beacon, or a lighthouse in the fog. And secondly, because he always seemed to attract attention. Was it possible that other people were drawn to him because of the brightness of his character or his soul just like he was? Perhaps it was something one picked up on even without angelic senses.

Annoyance filled him. Dean was talking to a dark haired female. She was smiling, no, giggling at something Dean said. Giggling was annoying. She leaned forward, put her arm on his bicep, touching him freely. Dean had a smile on his face, like a man who’d won the lottery, all of his attention focused on the woman in front of him. And then the woman reached up, put her hand on the back of Dean’s neck and drew him down into a kiss.

“You’ve got to be joking,” he grumbled, and got up from his seat. This was so typical of Dean, so typical of their relationship in fact, that just when it seemed like Cas understood what was between them, when it seemed as though they were making progress and becoming closer, something intervened. Usually it was Cas’ fault. He’d try to save Heaven, die or get kidnapped (which made him even more annoyed as he thought about it) and Dean’s defensive walls would go right back up.

He stalked up to the pair of them. The woman pushed her tongue into Dean’s mouth. And Dean just stood there! His eyes were closed, his brows rising in curious interest as she moved closer and kissed him deeper. “I’m leaving,” Castiel said, voice a low growl. Dean jerked back, blinking his eyes open as he looked at Cas. He winced.

“But why? I have the drinks,” he said, moving away from the woman slightly and showing him the drinks he held in each hand.

“I don’t want to have a drink anymore. You took too long. Why don’t I go back to the bunker and you can stay and enjoy your evening with…” Cas gestured at the woman and Dean looked confused for a moment as he stared at the woman.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name,” Dean said, shrugging in apology.

“Kimberly,” she said, with a simper.

Cas rolled his eyes and turned away.

“Cas, wait!” Dean called, dashing forward, placing himself between Cas and the door. “Come on man, I’m sorry. I went up to get the drinks and she just started talking to me. It seemed rude to just leave.”

“Yes, and while you were busy entertaining a stranger, I was waiting, alone like a fool.”

“What do you mean like a fool? No one thinks you’re a fool. You’re the goofy guy in a trench coat with sex hair.”

Cas opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again, squinting as he tried to put together what that description said of both him and Dean’s perception of him. Dean handed him a beer and gestured to their table. “Come on, man. You have my undivided attention. No more chicks.”

“I know you like…women. So go and be with Kimberly if you want to. Now you know her name at least.”

Dean seemed perplexed and genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would annoy you. And to be fair, it wasn’t even my fault.”

“Oh really?” Cas said, voice rising in annoyance.

“She kissed _me_ ,” he said, as if that were a perfectly good response.

“And?”

“Um, and what? That’s all. She kissed me. I was just _talking_ to her. That’s just what happens sometimes.”

“It doesn’t _just happen_ actually. I don’t go into a bar and suddenly wind up having some person kiss me.” Which was becoming incredibly annoying as a matter of fact. Perhaps it would serve Dean right to see Cas with a woman draped over him.

“That’s because you seem bored or like you don’t want to be kissed. You’re like the opposite of me.”

“Do you have any idea how insulting that is? You’re saying you seem interesting and what, available?”

Dean shrugged. Held out the beer again. His eyes softened, filling with regret. Cas was a sucker for regret. “No, that isn’t what I mean. Please, I want to be here with you. We were having fun weren’t we? I know it doesn’t make any sense but…I’m very easy on the eyes. And I get hit on a lot. I rarely even make a move. I didn’t say anything to that woman. One moment she was asking me what I did for a living and then she kissed me. It just _happens_. Please, Cas.”

The weirdest part of this explanation was that it actually made sense. He’d been there on a number of occasions where various people and entities decided they wanted to be intimate with Dean Winchester. Anna, Abbadon, Crowley, Amara…himself. But he was the only one who showed any restraint. _And where’s it gotten you?_ _Nowhere._ He thought darkly.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Don’t you want to say ‘no’?”

“Well, yeah, sometimes. Like if it’s…you know, someone evil. But otherwise, no. I like sex. I like being….” He was looking down at Cas’ chest, as if he couldn’t face making eye contact with him.

“Wanted,” Cas finished for him.

“Well, that makes it sound pathetic. Or like I’m easy.” Cas reached out, took the beer from Dean and went back to their table, mind going a million miles a minute as he added this information to what he knew of Dean.

“Great. So, where were we? All Saint’s Day, it’s not better than Pet Cemetery. Were you joking?”

Cas blinked, “Do you _ever_ put yourself forward when seeking intimate relations?”

“What?” He took a moment to ponder the question. It was, admittedly, an odd question. “Sure. I’m sure I do.”

“When?”

Dean laughed nervously, a blush rising up his cheeks. “Wow. We really don’t need to go through my love life. Which has been dry as the Sahara for a long time I must say. Not as dry as yours I suppose.”

“I’m not interested in casual sexual intercourse.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and then looked intensely at the bottle in his hand, picking at the label with his nail. “It’s not that bad. It’s fun. You should, um, try it.” Did Dean grimace?

“Despite your experiences it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to walk up to someone and just kiss them. I would need to ask for consent. Everyone should ask for consent.”

Dean chuckled. “That’s why you’re one of the good ones, Cas. And you’re right. But, sometimes it isn’t a transaction. It’s just lust and if the mood is right you can lean in for a kiss. You just give a moment, a pause, so she knows she can move away.”

Cas took a long drink of his beer. “You didn’t move away from her.”

“Well, she actually didn’t give me much of a chance. I was a little surprised. But it was nice. Kissing is fun. Don’t overthink it.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he said.

Dean sighed, taking several swallows of his beer. “No, no it does not.”

 

**

 

Dean felt like an asshole. Cas was clearly pissed at him for getting distracted by that chick at the bar and leaving him sitting all by himself. Which was a bit of a dick move. But the truth was it was kind of nice to be flirted with. Chuck knew Cas wasn’t going to flirt with him. And he really hadn’t expected her to kiss him. But it had been…nice. Not something amazing or particularly memorable but pleasant. And pleasant was not to be undervalued.

They finished their beer and stood to leave. Dean led the way, able to feel Cas behind him, watching him. A group of guys came in the front door and he stopped, waited for them to get out of the way. Cas was too close. Jesus, he actually felt him exhale on the back of his neck. Dean shivered, rolling his shoulders to try to get rid of the sensation before he did something embarrassing like get a hard-on.

His breath fogged in the night air as they crossed the parking lot and Dean jangled the keys in his hand as he walked to the car. The lot was empty, the sounds of the highway distant but constant. “Dean, wait,” Cas said, before Dean could unlock the passenger door. He turned around, surprised to see Cas so close to him.

“Space, Cas.” He stepped back, bumping into the car. Cas didn’t move out of the way. He actually took a step closer. What the ever loving fuck was going on? Dean breathed in and could smell Cas in front of him. Some cologne he’d started wearing that was really fucking nice but didn’t smell great on Dean. Not that Dean would admit to noticing.

“This is your chance to say no,” Cas said, gaze fixed on Dean’s lips.

Dean literally couldn’t speak. Say no? To Cas? Cas who was about to _kiss_ him? In what universe could Dean ever say no to Cas? He licked his lips and Cas must have taken that for permission because he leaned all the way in, pressing his lips against Dean’s softly.

Carefully.

And then his hands came up, resting against Dean’s cheeks, his skin warm and dry as he cradled Dean’s face like he was precious. A moment passed and Dean didn’t know what to do, how to make this stop or continue or even what he wanted. But then Cas made a sound in his throat, pleased, and he pressed more firmly, his tongue swiping at the seam of Dean’s lips. Dean opened instantly, letting Cas inside, turning his head slightly so Cas could kiss him deeper. And he did, his body came close, flush against Dean’s and Jesus Christ he could feel the outline of Cas’ cock against him. Hard.

Castiel, angel of the god damned lord had a boner. For him.

His breath shuddered out of him and his hands came up, landed on Cas’ biceps, feeling the thick muscles there. God what must he look like under this fucking trench coat? He didn’t pull him closer, he just couldn’t. But he didn’t push him away either. His mind just sort of shorted out, wanted more and more and so he tried to help that happen, let his mouth open wider, chased Cas’ tongue as it retreated from his mouth, tilted his hips, a little, so Cas could press harder against him, get more friction against his cock.

Cas groaned, some understanding that Dean wanted this getting through because a hand landed on his hip, fingers spreading wide as he dragged Dean closer. Dean’s cock was squeezed between them, and he gasped in pleasure. “Is this okay?” Cas whispered against his mouth and Dean nodded, nose brushing against the angel’s. Cas pulled back a moment later, licking his lips and looking at Dean with an expression Dean couldn’t even pretend to understand.

“Cas,” he managed, just a whisper.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to know. I had to. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh. Okay,” Dean said, not sure what that meant. Cas moved away from him, reached down and adjusted himself in his pants and Dean couldn’t help but stare, transfixed. God, he’d be imagining that moment tonight as he jerked off. So fucking hot.

“Thank you,” Cas said, almost the same expression and tone of voice he’d had when Dean had given him the first beer tonight. Was this just as pleasant as being handed a beer? Because Dean was pretty sure his world was fundamentally altered.

“Sure. Sure,” Dean said, inanely.

Cas gave him a small smile. “Can you open my door now?”

“Oh. Sure. Sure,” he said, and tried to stand up straight. Jesus, his legs were shaky. It took him a moment to find the right key and then he unlocked it and looked back up and there was Cas, staring at him like nothing earth shattering had just happened.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked.

“Sure. Yeah. Sure,” he said, moving away. Had he just said that? Cas got into the car and Dean walked slowly to his own side of the car, taking in deep breaths, fully aware his brain had fucked off and left. He pressed his fingers to his lips. Did that actually happen?

He got in the car and sat there for a long moment, staring ahead at nothing. Not even pretending he was going to start the car. “You just kissed me,” he said, and had to clear his throat because he’d sounded like Meg Ryan in any rom com from the 90’s.

“I hope that was okay. You didn’t move away or say ‘no’.”

“No, I didn’t, did I?” He could feel Cas staring at him.

“I enjoyed kissing you.”

A quick glance to the side. Fuck, Cas was hot. The shadows were playing up the angels of his face, making him look rugged. Maybe even dangerous. “Good.”

“Did you enjoy kissing me?”

“You can’t just put a question like that out there! How am I supposed to answer that?” His voice came out gruff, perhaps a bit defensive.

“With a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’? I don’t want to kiss you again if you didn’t like it.”

 _Again?_ Dean started the car, nerves shooting through him. He needed to get them out of here. Away. Get some distance between them so they could sober up and pretend this didn’t happen. The next few days were going to be awful. Truly uncomfortable.

“Dean?” Cas asked, after they’d gotten on the freeway.

“What?” he asked, softly.

“You didn’t answer my question. I don’t want this to affect our relationship negatively. I apologize if I did something you didn’t like.”

“No, no you didn’t. It’s just…you _kissed_ me.”

“That was the part I was quite certain of. It seemed like you liked it. Your body responded and you didn’t push me away. But you didn’t…encourage things either.”

“What do you mean?” he whispered.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I liked it. Um, a lot. You’re a good kisser. Some girl will be really lucky when you try that out on her.”

The silence grew. Became downright excruciating. But it did wonders for reducing his erection. Way to find the bright side, Dean thought. “So you did like it?” Cas tried again.

And then he waited. Waited and it was clear he was just going to keep waiting until Dean answered. “Sure. Yeah. Of course.” _Of course?!? Why did I say of course?_

“And if I did it again what would you do?”

“Do?”

“Yes. When girls kiss you and you like it, do they kiss you again? And then, because you liked it once can it be assumed you will like it the next time?” His voice was slow, questioning. “I suppose I enjoyed kissing April. You know, the reaper.”

“Yeah, uh, I know the reaper. I remember that.” It was the ‘again’ part of it all that Dean was mentally stuck on. Cas didn’t seem to be stuck on that part, though.

“I enjoyed kissing her. She kissed me initially and then I kissed her because the sex was enjoyable and I wanted to do it again.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure. Sure.” Dean scanned the horizon. Where the fuck was the bunker? And then the high beams caught the corner of it and Dean had to restrain himself from punching his fist in the air in triumph. This excruciating trip was almost over. Thank fuck. Because it was pretty clear Dean was an experiment. He’d been used by Cas for an example of what it was like to kiss someone and see if they liked it or not.

They pulled into the garage and Dean was so relieved and nauseous he thought he might puke. He got out of the car and strode towards the door.

“Dean,” Cas called. Dean closed his eyes, tried to make his expression blank, maybe even casually interested and turned to look at his best friend, angel of the lord and supernatural being he’d been in love with for years and years and years.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“So, if I kiss you again, will it be weird?”

“It’s already weird.” He winced. Maybe that was too blunt.

“So, it was a mistake. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

He knew he should let it go. Start the process of getting over this shit-show but he couldn’t let it end like this. “Cas. I…I enjoyed it. I’m a big boy, if I don’t want to be kissed, I’m not going to be kissed or taken advantage of or whatever.” Taken advantage of? Where had that come from?

Cas did the head tilt, examining Dean closely. He felt himself blushing.

“Good to know,” Cas said, gaze dropping down, running over Dean as if he were imagining taking advantage of him. The demonic angel smiled. A horribly knowing, maybe even deviant smile, and then he pushed past Dean and went into the bunker. 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Wow. You look like shit,” Sam said, as Dean came into the kitchen and dragged himself to the coffee machine. “How much did you have to drink last night?”

“Not that much, actually. I couldn’t sleep.” Dean took a large sip of coffee, burning his mouth. Would he never learn? He sat down, groaning as he did so. “I think I’m getting old.” Sam snorted and went back to looking at his iPad. “You looking for a case?” Dean asked, before blowing on his coffee.

“No. Everything seems a little calm at the moment. I was thinking of going for a hike. Jack’s never been on one.”

Dean took another sip of coffee. Should they get bigger mugs? For as much coffee as they all drank it seemed like a good idea. “You want to go stumbling around in a forest even though you don’t need to?”

“Meh. If it’s that or the Rom Com fest then I’ll go on a hike any day. It’ll be nice to get some fresh air and just enjoy nature.”

“Rom Com fest?”

“Yeah, Cas came in this morning and said you guys were doing a movie night. He had a list.”

“What movie night? What _list_?” Dean demanded, suddenly suspicious and a little panicky.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe the one about the dog? Or the kid who needs a mom or something?”

“But…that could literally be _any_ movie,” Dean said. That wasn’t helpful at all. “Why is he…what did he say, _exactly_?”

“I don’t know,” Sam murmured, not even bothering to look up from his iPad. Dean put his hand over the screen, forcing Sam to look at him.

“Don’t give me a bitch face, it’s a simple question.”

Sam’s expression changed to include an eye roll. “Because you like movies and he indulges you by watching them with you?” Sam said, slowly.

“He doesn’t _indulge_ me,” Dean said, jumping up from his seat and going back to the coffee pot. He took another big sip, drinking enough to legitimately need a refill. 

“Man, what is with you today? Maybe you should take a nap or something.” Sam stood, stretching. “Okay. So we’re going to head out in a bit. Have fun.”

“Wait. What do you mean ‘have fun’? And where is Cas?” he asked, peering around him like he might suddenly appear out of nowhere.

“Dude. What is your problem? He went into town. He was going to get beer and pie but I told him you like Red Vines too. He seemed happy about that. You’re welcome.”

“Did he seem…weird? Devious, maybe?”

Sam shrugged. “What? _Devious_? Dean, I’m outta here. Take a break. Maybe do some meditation or something.”

“I don’t know how to meditate. And I don’t want to learn.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Sam said, smirking.

For a moment, just a hint of a moment, he thought about telling Sam that Cas had kissed him. That Cas had kissed him and then kind of, sort of, said he was going to do it again. And that Dean may have encouraged him. But only because he’d been in a bit of a daze. The sleeplessness had given him enough time to analyze the evening and come up with all sort of reasons why this was a disaster. His own personal apocalypse.

Sam was leaving the kitchen though, and that was for the best. He didn’t want to talk to Sam about this. Sam would probably think it was funny. He would make fun of Dean forever.Or worse, he’d have questions about Dean’s sexual orientation and then he’d badger him until he talked about it. A world of no.

Dean sat back down at the table and stared at nothing for a few minutes, trying to work out what it all meant. One thought he’d worried over in the midnight hours was how the kiss might screw up their friendship. And then he’d also been stuck with a raging hard-on he really didn’t want to deal with. So he kept pretending it wasn’t there. Jerking off to thoughts of kissing your best friend was a big line he was worried about crossing.

Which was lame because Cas had featured in a few of his spank bank fantasies for a while now. A while meaning years. And more years. But he really tried not to encourage that line of thinking. Talk about frustration. And then guilt and a bit of shame because it had to be wrong to lust after an angel.

He’d had other things he could get off to. Cas was like, his guilty pleasure, he only jerked off to Cas fantasies when he couldn’t resist anymore. Which meant he’d been frustrated for half the night, trying desperately not to give in and then ultimately failing, coming so hard at the memory of Cas kissing him and pressing his cock against Dean’s that he’d had to clean a drop of come off his neck. His neck! Like he was a fucking teenager or something.

And that bit of ‘release’ didn’t even help him sleep.

He couldn’t lose Cas as a friend. That had been the main thing he’d come back to over and over again as he stayed up half the night. Life without Cas. Cas deciding Dean wasn’t worth it.

But, apparently, that wasn’t what was going to happen, he reminded himself. Instead of it being an awkward and distant silence it appeared that Cas was preparing for a movie night. Which was great. He did love a movie night. But they usually watched horror movies or sci fi. Rom coms? What did _that_ mean? Was this part of his quest to get romantic experience to use on other people? _Or on me?_ The tiniest, most hopeful and pathetic voice asked. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he muttered, annoyed at the realization that he was talking to himself.

 

***

 

Dean looked surreptitiously at his watch and realized it was almost 8. They’d made it through the Proposal and Titanic, now they were watching the Princess Bride and the Man in Black and Inigo Montoya were sword fighting on the Cliffs of Insanity.

“Clothing used to be a lot more interesting then it is now,” Castiel said.

Dean paused, popcorn halfway to his mouth. “Dude. Your wardrobe is a suit and trench coat. Always. What do you care about fashion?”

Cas turned to him, one dark brow raised. “You wear a lot of plaid but you still enjoy dressing up.” Cas turned back to the tv and then leaned forward, scooting to the edge of his seat as he reached across the coffee table for his drink. He took a sip and then moved back, much closer than he had been before. Like, _a lot_ closer. Every muscle was locked up tight as Dean sat there frozen. He should do something. Say something. And then! And then Cas lifted his arm and put it around Dean’s shoulders, along the back of the couch Cas had insisted they put in the tv room earlier today (discovered in one of the bedrooms and surprisingly comfortable) and continued to watch the movie as if nothing at all had just happened.

Dean put more popcorn in his mouth and chewed slowly, almost choking as he swallowed too quickly. Did Cas know this was the first step any teenage boy used before moving into a kiss? This was a legitimate ‘move’ Cas was putting on him. First, you did the arm and then if it didn’t get moved away or mentioned then you went in for a kiss. Which meant that Dean needed to do something now if he didn’t want this to continue.

He felt Cas’ fingers on the back of his neck and he shivered. “Is this okay?” Cas whispered, turning his head so Dean could feel the ghost of Cas’ lips next to his ear. Which meant he shivered again.

“Um, yeah. Of course,” he said, sounding breathless.

“You could touch me back,” Cas said, with his stupidly deep and ridiculously hot voice. That was true. Except for the fact that he was currently paralyzed with a mixture of terror and lust.

“Like how?” he asked, because he could feel Cas looking at him, wanting a response. Cas reached over with his free hand, picked up Dean’s hand and put it on his thigh. Dean squeezed the hard muscle reflexively, so many inappropriate thoughts racing through his mind. His pinky was now a few inches away from Cas’ cock.

“Is that okay?” Cas asked, and his nose lightly brushed Dean’s neck, just below his ear. Dean’s eyes slid shut in pleasure. It was more than okay. His thumb moved, brushing back and forth on Cas’ thigh. Cas moved closer, lips pressing against Dean’s neck in soft kisses that made Dean achingly hard in no time. He licked his lips, wishing Cas would kiss him.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, lips shifting on his skin as Cas spoke, “Will you kiss me?”

Dean turned his head, meeting Cas halfway. They both shifted on the couch and Dean had a moment of confusion as Cas did something between them. He opened his eyes and looked, watching as Cas fumbled to get the popcorn bowl onto the table without interrupting their kiss. Dean smiled, and couldn’t stop a small laugh as Cas let the bowl go and it fell off the table.

“Damnit,” Cas murmured, and then he was pushing Dean back against the couch, laying him out, climbing over him and settling his weight on top of him. “Is this okay?”

Dean arched up, kissing Cas in response, twining his arms around his neck and pulling him close and tight against him. The embrace was different then anything he could remember. There was no description for it, nor an explanation for the emotion that washed through himas he felt Cas’ chest rise and fall as he took a breath. Because Cas was alive. Here. With Dean.

He loved the feeling of him, the solidity and warmth of his body as he weighted Dean down. Surrounded him. Cas would give his life for him. Was on his side no matter what. He made Dean feel whole. Safe. And when Cas was dead he’d thought that was it, that it was his turn to die next and that there would be enough of a relief there that he wouldn’t even try to fight it.

But it had taken too long and he’d started to take matters into his own hands. There had been more than a few times there where he didn’t bother to defend himself from monsters, the only reason he lived being because Sam saved him. And then because Billy forced him back. 

He broke the kiss, burying his face in the crook of Cas’ neck, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. What he felt was more than lust, worse than just desire. It was love and necessity. Home. “Dean?” Cas asked, pulling back a little to look at him. Dean tried to smile, knew it was shaky.

“I lost you. I’m just so glad you’re back.”

Cas pushed back, took in the tears on Dean’s face. “I’m sorry, I’ve upset you.”

“Wait!” Dean grabbed Cas by the shoulders, keeping him from pulling away. “I want this. Want you. You have no idea,” he managed. “But I also…just…just kiss me okay?”

Cas smiled. “As you wish,” he said, and then he kissed Dean softly on the lips, almost chastely. But it wasn’t all that chaste because Dean could feel Cas hard and ready against him, felt the slight shift as Cas pressed against him in arousal. Dean shifted on the couch, getting one leg free and putting it on the floor so Cas could settle against him better. And fuck did that feel amazing. He felt his cock twitch in relief as Cas ground himself closer and tighter against him.

He licked the seam of Cas’ lips, urging him to open his mouth, to kiss him deeper but Cas didn’t, kept the kisses soft and comforting. He moved to Dean’s jaw and down his neck, breathing in deeply when he reached the juncture where Dean’s neck and shoulder met. He groaned and kissed him open mouthed, sucked on Dean’s skin and he was pretty fucking sure he was going to wind up with a hickey on his neck.

“Yes,” Dean said, hands sliding down to Cas’ ass, urging him onwards. He felt a shudder go through Cas and for a moment Dean thought he might come, just from the feeling of Cas on top of him, the knowledge that he was wanted so badly. His balls were flush against his body, his cock hard and leaking and then Cas groaned against him, added a nip of teeth against his neck and Dean was gone, the orgasm washing over him abruptly, pathetically if one wanted the truth.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean said, cock still pulsing in his pants. And then it was urgent, downright necessary to make Cas come too, to not be the only one coming like a teenager with no experience. “Up a little,” Dean gasped, hands thrusting between them, jerking at Cas’ belt, fumbling with his zipper. His hands reached in, grabbed Cas’ cock, and began to jerk him fast and urgent. “Come on, Cas. Come on, please,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Cas’ parted lips and then his gaze was riveted to Cas’ cock, how hard it was, the shine of pre come as a drop of it slipped out the head and down the shaft.

“Dean,” Cas growled, a warning. “On you,” he said, as his body trembled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean urged and then Cas was coming, come spurting over Dean’s shirt, up his chest and then all over Dean’s hand. It dripped onto his stomach, onto his skin where his shirt had ridden up and the warmth of it made Dean feel light-headed. He wished he’d been naked or at least had his shirt off. Not just for cleanliness but because he wanted Cas’ come on him, marking him up. He felt the blush rising in his cheeks. It wasn’t a thought he’d ever had before, wasn’t quite sure what it said about him or his feelings but he wanted everything with Cas. He wanted to taste him, swallow him down, feel him naked and warm in his bed. God, the idea of Cas in his bed.

Cas pulled back, tucking himself away and zipping his pants. He looked deeply apologetic. “That went further than I meant it too, I’m sorry.”

The comment jerked Dean from his thoughts. “What? Oh no, it was great. And that’s what happens sometimes, right? One gets…uh, carried away. You’re getting the full experience.”

Cas squinted at him and stood up. “Let me get something to clean you up.”

“I’ll do it. No worries. It’s late anyway,” Dean said, and shoved to his feet. Come was cooling unpleasantly in his jeans and he looked down, seeing a wet spot and feeling ridiculous. “A good time was had by all,” he said, a small brittle laugh coming from him as he backed towards the door.

“Dean, wait.”

“Really. That was fun. We should do it again sometime. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, and then he dashed out the door, as if he were fleeing for his life. Or at least his sanity.

 

**

 

By the time the morning came Dean was a wreck. It made the yesterday him seem perky and well-rested in comparison. He staggered into the kitchen, unsurprised to see his brother there looking wide-awake and tanned. From his outdoor activities, just like the responsible adult he always claimed to be. Whatever. He’d get his exercise killing something in a day or two no doubt. Dean went straight for the coffee and then sat down opposite Sam. “Okay, listen. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I want to tell you something, talk to you about something but I _don’t_ want it to be a big deal. Okay?”

Sam straightened, rolled his shoulders. “I’ll try. What is it?”

“Oh my god. I can’t say this and look at you,” Dean said, and stood up, began pacing. “You know what, never mind.” His slippers made a shushing sound with every step.

“Dean, it’s fine. I swear, whatever you want to talk about, I won’t make a big deal of it.”

“Or bring it up again. _Ever_?” Dean demanded.

“Got it. Ever,” Sam said. He looked thoughtful. “Or should it be never? You won’t hear me mention it. How’s that?” Dean’s pacing quickened. Who needed a walk in the woods when there was a perfectly good kitchen to do minuscule laps in? He shouldn’t talk to Sam about this. But he had to talk to someone. And at least his brother would have the most perspective, since he knew the both of them at least.

“So, Cas and I went to a bar and some chick hit on me. I think it made Cas curious about the whole sex thing. But, you know, the last time he fooled around with a chick she killed him. He’s…gun-shy. I guess. So, he kissed me and now it’s weird. Like I think I’m an experiment and I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

He risked a glance at Sam. Whose mouth was hanging open. Dean winced. “I knew this was a fucking mistake.”

“Whoa. No, okay, wait. I was just a little surprised.,” he said, voice overly calm. Then he made a snorting sound. “And I’m surprised there isn’t more gay panic.”

“What now? What kind of panic?”

“Never mind. Congratulations. I’m happy for you both. Really.”

“What? No! That is not what I’m talking about. This isn’t some gay parade koom ba ya-ya crap, this is serious. I mean, it’s great, it’s super fucking hot—“

“Didn’t need that detail, but good,” Sam muttered.

Dean shot him a glare. “But, like, I like casual sex. I do. I just don’t see how this would stay casual if it progressed. And as much as I like the guy, I’m not sure I want to be his experiment. What if we keep fooling around and then it’s weird when he meets someone he _actually_ likes and takes his bedroom act down the road?”

Now Sam looked confused. “Wait. What’s happening here? You think this is an experiment? That Cas is…testing sex out on you or something?”

“Well when you say it like that it sounds sleazy. And it’s not. This is just,” Dean’s mouth pulled down into a frown as he searched for words, “two guys helping each other other. Or me helping him out.”

“Nope! You’re getting too close to the tmi again. Let’s stick to the facts. Cas kissed you?”

“Yes.”

“And you liked it?”

“Um…understatement.”

“And _he_ liked it?”

Dean couldn’t stop himself from throwing Sam a smug ‘of-course-he-liked-it-I’m-dean-fucking-winchester’ look. Sam rolled his eyes. “But you’re worried he’s just _practicing_ on _you_?”

“Exactly.”

“It’s been 10 years of longing looks and dying. Dude ain’t practicing on you.”

“He hasn’t said that to you, though, has he? So, you don’t know.”

“Well, no he hasn’t, but it’s obvious.”

“No, it’s not. This isn’t obvious. If it was _obvious_ he would have done it before now.”

“So, what do you want to do? Ignore it, hope it goes away?”

“Yes! That’s what we usually do! I’m too old to change now, right?”

“And how does that work for you, usually?”

Dean fell into the chair across from Sam. “Not good. But surely there is something else besides talking to him?”

His brother smiled. The fucker. “Nope. I think that’s your only move. Congratulations,” he said, standing up and going to the sink to rinse his cup. “Invite me to the wedding when you’ve got it all worked out,” he said, and then he left.

Dean thought about what Sam had said. He wasn’t helpful. Like at all. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean knocked on Cas’ door and then wiped his hands on his jeans while he waited for Cas to tell him to come in. The door jerked open and Cas stood there, apparently unsurprised to see him. He gave Dean a quick look up and down then said, “Oh good, come in.”

“Were you expecting me or something?” he asked, managing a half-hearted chuckle.

“Of course. We live together.”

Which was the kind of statement that made him feel like the ground had just shifted under him. Because it was kind of true in the literal sense but very not true in a romantic, life partner sort of way. Which meant that it was the kind of statement that made Dean’s heart beat faster and also like he’d just been punched in the stomach at the same time. “Well, kind of. It’s a big bunker.” His brain was telling him to shut up but his mouth wasn’t getting the message. Talking first and thinking later never worked for anyone.

Cas held the door open and Dean went inside. “You’ve made some changes. Is that a record player? And a blanket. Looks cozy.”

“Yes. I found it in one of the rooms and the blanket I purchased. Thought you might like it.”

“Oh. Oh, well that’s nice,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say. And he wasn’t sure what Cas meant. Did he think Dean would like the record player or the blanket? Or both? Was there any platonic explanation for a blanket? Cas’ bed was made, hospital corner tight and everything was tidy. Cas shrugged off his coat and threw it onto the newly acquired chair. Which was unfortunate as Dean was just going to sit there. Cas sat down on the bed and looked at Dean then gestured to the space beside him. Okay, this had gone on long enough. “Wait a minute. Did you just take off your coat so I’d have to sit on the bed with you?”

“Do you not want to sit on the bed with me?”Cas asked, looking so damned innocent it made Dean suspicious.

“Well, I uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. This whole thing,” he said, waving his hand in a vague circle. “With you kissing me and us fooling around. It’s great. But, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

Cas narrowed his gaze, did the head tilt that meant he was trying to figure Dean out. “Go on.”

His face felt hot and he knew he was blushing. Annoying. “Well, I just think it’s gone far enough. You clearly know how to kiss and…stuff. That’s all…uh, all good.” Good enough that Dean needed to do laundry a day early. “You don’t need to experiment anymore. With me.”

Cas gave him the unreasonably attractive eye squint that meant he was trying to figure out what Dean felt rather than what he said. “Are you saying you don’t want to engage in sexual activity with me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I just said you did it right. But the more we fool around the easier it will be to confuse things, have feelings develop. That’s why I’m a big fan of the one night stand. We live dangerous lives, you can’t just have chicks come back to the bunker on dates or go meet the parents or something. Temporary is the way to go. But we live together and if we fool around like…where does it stop? It’s not temporary if we live together,” Dean gave himself a mental high five. He hadn’t been sure where that little speech was going but he was pretty sure he’d made a good argument.

“Why would it stop?” _Well, fuck._

This wasn’t going quite as Dean expected. Sam’s words abruptly (and annoyingly) came back to him. ‘Invite me to the wedding,’ he’d said.“Because this is an experiment?” Dean asked, a little surprised it came out a question.

“You’re not an experiment to me. I love you.”

Wow. It was a good thing he was sitting down. Leave it to Cas to just put it all out there. “Yeah, but….”

“But you don’t feel the same way? You love me like a “brother”? We’re “family”?” Cas said, bringing out the air quotes and sounding pissy.

“Look, the L word is a big deal. It’s not just something one throws around.” _Because I am incapable of saying it_ , Dean thought. 

“I understand that. And I understand that it is difficult for you, in particular, to say. But…Dean, this is us. After everything we have done for each other, shared with each other….” He seemed at a loss for words. And he looked like he’d just been tossed out of Heaven (you know, for the first time). “Do you not want this? Me?” he clarified.

“What I want isn’t actually the point here. I don’t…I don’t think I can. Like, what would we tell people? Hunters? My mother. Jesus, my mother.”

“Dean, my understanding is that most people already believe we are a couple. And what you want is completely the point.”

“But…but this would be reality.” Didn’t Cas understand that this was a big deal? How this would redefine who they were? “And then…who does what? Like, sexually?”

Cas looked genuinely confused now. “Wouldn’t we just do what we want to do? Figure out what we like together?”

Something was happening inside his chest, something horrible that was making it hard to breathe. Was he going to have a panic attack? Could his chest literally just crack wide open due to emotional trauma? “This was never…this wasn’t the plan. Hunt things, hookups with women and then leave town. Rinse and repeat. Go out in a blaze of glory. That’s the plan. That’s….” The plan wasn’t love. It wasn’t corrupting an angel and claiming him as his own. Because God knows Dean isn’t good enough for Cas and Dean would let him down because that was what he did. And assuming they lived long enough for Cas to realize the gravity of his mistake and break up with Dean, then how would Dean function? He knew he didn’t want to go on without Cas in the world. But he was also kind of worried that he wouldn’t be able to go on if Cas decided he didn’t want Dean, either. If he wasn’t good enough. 

Cas stood up, took a step towards him and Dean held up a hand, needing space. And if Cas came up next to him and got into his personal space he didn’t think he’d be able to stay away from him. He’d do something stupid and it would mess things up even more than they were already. “I’m sorry. But this, this isn’t the plan.”

“Alright. Then why don’t we keep it casual?”

His mouth opened and closed at the ridiculousness of that statement. “We don’t _do_ causal. There is no casual between us. This is—” he bit off the rest of that sentence. He was going to say they were star crossed lovers, Romeo and Juliet type of tragic bullshit. But, apparently he didn’t need to finish the sentence because Cas knew what he meant.

“Exactly! We have more, we could have _everything_. Why wouldn’t you want that? Why would you deny yourself this? Deny _us_ the comfort of each other?”

What the fuck was wrong with him? Couldn’t Cas see what this was doing to him? “Like I said. It was a good experiment. But I’m not prepared to um, do this with you. Become whatever.”

“Gay?”

“No! I mean, that’s part of it. But not really, no.” Charlie was gay and he loved Charlie. “I just can’t.” _I won’t survive this ending. And it will end._

A look Dean couldn’t understand crossed Cas’ face. Horrible and cold, somehow ruthless. This was the Cas who threatened to throw Dean back into the pit all those years ago. “Because you only do casual?”

“Yes. Yeah. Exactly,” he said, taking the out.

Cas stood there like a fucking sphinx, dissecting Dean with his gaze for long moments. “Fine. Maybe you’re right. I guess you would know. Seeing all the successful one night stands you’ve had. How fulfilling that’s been for you.” Cas grabbed his coat.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“Well, it’s five o clock. So I’m going to go find a bar and see what I’m missing. It’s Saturday night, Dean.”

“You’re going to go _drinking_?” Cas was furious. He came up into Dean’s space and it took all his willpower not to drag Cas in by his stupidly hot coat and kiss him senseless. “No, I’m going to go get _laid_. That’s what you want, right? For us to go and _fuck_ other people?”

“I don’t…wait.”

Cas waited. Stared hard at Dean. And Dean had nothing to say. Words literally wouldn’t come to him. Cas finally rolled his eyes. “No. I am sorry this is difficult for you, Dean, but I will not let this go. This is pretty simple. I love you and you love me. Even if you can’t say it. And I’m not willing to pretend any longer. I’m not going to go on hunts with you and watch you disappear into the night to fuck some stranger once it’s done. You either want me or I am going out.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum? If you know me so well, you’ll be well aware that I don’t do well with ultimatums. _Pass_ ,” Dean ground out.

“There you go then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he moved past Dean to the door. “My GPS is on. You know, if you come to your senses.”

“I’m not coming after you,” Dean said.

Cas paused, hand on the doorknob and looked at Dean, seeing through him and all the bullshit. “Well, if you change your mind, you’ll know where to find me.”

 

**

 

Dean was not going to go after Cas, obviously. Obviously. He went back to his room and folded his laundry and then paced the bunker, feeling claustrophobic as hell.

“He left. He said he was going to get laid,” Dean said, the moment he saw Sam in the library.

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. “What now?” His tone of voice implied that he not only hadn’t been paying attention but that he didn’t really want to either.

“Cas! He said we were either together or we weren’t. And now he’s gone off to a bar to pick up some chick and get _laid_!”

“How do you know it’s a girl?”

“What?” Dean jerked to a halt. Stunned. _That_ hadn’t even occurred to him. “Fuck you, Sam. Who’s side are you on?”

“Well, he likes men at least a little, right? So maybe he’ll go home with a guy.” He snapped his book closed sharply. “And, you know what? I’m on _my_ side. _Mine_. Ten damned years. I don’t have it in me to go from silent emo nonsense to vocal emo nonsense for another ten.”

“That’s not— that’s not even the point! What’s he thinking?”

Sam shook his head, sounded weary when he said. “What are you thinking? There is actually nothing I can think of that has given me any sign that Cas is into casual hookups. So what did you do to make him think this was a good idea?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again.

Sam ran a hand through his ridiculous horse mane of hair and said, “Love is scary. But you’re the bravest man I know. Go tell him you’re sorry and fix this.”

“But I haven’t even told you the details yet, you have no idea what happened.”

“True. And I don’t want to. I’m heading out. Jody has a case. I’ll take Jack. We’ll be back in a week. Maybe more. Keep me posted,” he said, tossing the book onto the table before walking out of the room.

_Traitor._

 

_**_

 

Another hour went by and Dean thought he might genuinely go insane. He did look at Cas’ GPS and he was parked at a bar. Nightmarish fantasies went through his mind as he imagined Cas getting hit on by every smooth talking sleaze bag and skank who was out on a Saturday night. _Everyone_ hit on Cas. Everyone knew how attractive he was. And they all commented on it and Cas had seemed immune. Apparently that was now over. Hell, he was pretty sure that even Chuck had had a crush on the angel! And Cas didn’t know the depths of human depravity, the deceitfulness. He’d go home with someone like April. Or hell, maybe it would be a supernatural creature who’d kill him all over again.

 _Fuck that_. Dean was going to go and see. Just make sure that Cas wasn’t going home with a siren or a psychopath.

Dean arrived at the bar at a little after 8 and found Cas’ car still parked out front. Fine. He’d just go in. Probably see the angel on his own, nursing a beer and then he’d leave or hide out in the back and make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. He wasn’t going to be bullied into a relationship.

He got out of the car, shutting the door with more force than he should have and went into the bar. It was loud and packed. It didn’t take him long to find Cas. And he was sitting with a woman. A woman! Blonde, looked hot from the back and Cas was smiling at her. Maybe he could do casual after all. All his good intentions flew out the window and Dean stalked forward, stopped next to the table, and glared hard at Cas.

Cas raised a brow challengingly. “Hello, Dean,” Cas said, “Dean, this is Amber.”

He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He shook her hand and internally cringed because, of course, Amber was hot. Looked bendy.

“Hi, Dean. Nice to meet you. How do you two know each other?”

“Work buddies. ‘Pals’ you might say,” Cas said it flatly. The mental air quotes were implied in his tone of voice. He gave Cas a ‘fuck you’ look but didn’t deny it. “Dean was the one who recommended this place.”

“Oh, you come here often?” she asked.

“No, actually. I’m on the road a lot.”

“Oh, what do you do?” she asked. Really? _Really?_ Did he have to have this stupid conversation?

“Dean is an FBI agent. Or is it Homeland Security? FDA? Police? I forget. What is it you _really_ do again? He makes a lot of money and has a great pension. He loves women. And classic rock.”

She looked a little confused and looked back and forth between them, blinking ridiculously long lashes at them both. “Oh. That’s nice.”

“I’m sorry but I need to talk to my friend here,” Dean said, giving her a dismissive smile. “Work, you know.”

“So, you do work together?”

“Scram sister. He’s taken,” Dean said, and sat down on a bar stool.

“Rude,” she said, and flounced off. 

“Not funny, Cas. Did you even check her to see if she was human?”

“No, actually, I did not,” he said, and he took a drink of beer.

“Great. So, it would have been April all over again. Which means I just saved you. You’re welcome. Let’s go.”

“Why? So I can sit in the bunker with you and _not_ have you?” Fuck, Cas was downright glowering at him. “No. It’s either an honest conversation or I’m staying.”

“Oh my God. Honesty is so overrated. And you know, we’ve talked _a lot_ over the years. I can’t imagine there is really much left to say.”

“Then go away,” Cas growled.

Dean stood up and stalked away, went up to the bar and found himself ordering three shots of whiskey. He downed them in quick succession and then asked for 2 beers, getting one for Cas. When he turned back around Amber was back at Cas’ table. He huffed and went back, giving her a look. “Really?” he said, to her. “We just did this. He’s taken.”

She stomped off and he turned back to Cas, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cas said, all smiles.

He pushed the beer over to Cas. Cas took it and stuck out his hand. Dean glared at it. “Shake my hand,” Cas said.

“Why? You’re not going to explode all the lights, are you?” Cas just waited. Dean sighed and shook his hand.

“My name is Castiel, Angel of the lord. And Thursday.”

“Yeah, well it’s Saturday.” Dean grumbled.

“Who are you?”

“What?” Dean’s voice was low, annoyed.

“You heard me. Who. Are. You?”

“Dean Winchester,” he said, and sat there for a moment, trying to stare into Cas’ eyes deep enough to work out what he thought he’d get out of this. “Hunter. I kill things. Including angels. And uh, high school drop out. My mom just came back from the dead.”

Cas nodded, clinked his beer against Dean’s. “My dad left and will probably never come back. I used to have alot of siblings. Do you have any family?”

He took a long drink. How long was Cas going to make him do this? “Yeah. I have a brother. Freakishly tall.”

“And?”

“And _what_?”

“You have no other family? No other brothers?” he demanded.

Dean gave an ugly laugh. “No, okay. I don’t.”

“So, you’re alone then? Just you and your brother alone in the world?”

“Cas—“ he said, determined to get them out of there.

“Remember when I ingested all those souls from purgatory to save you from another apocalypse? Don’t you think that deserves a little indulgence?”

“Oh. Guilt. Great.” Did he remember one of the many times he’d lost Cas? Where Cas had made horrible decisions and died for him? Yeah, of course he remembered. It was one of the many nightmares that rotated through his dreams. “No, I don’t have any other brothers,” he found himself saying softly. He looked down at the table, picked the label slowly off the beer bottle.

“What do you have, Dean? Who else in your life? What are they to you?”

Tears blurred his vision. He didn’t know where they came from and he wasn’t very happy about it. But he did his best to glare at Cas because he wanted him to know how much this was actually tearing him apart inside. Did Cas think it was easy to reject him? The idea that he could have Cas, have him in his bed and wrapped around him and he was saying no? Wasn’t that a sign of how strong he was? And yet, he knew it was cowardice. Deep down, of course he did. “Everything,” he managed, his voice shredded in his throat. “You’re _everything_ and you fucking know it.” He shoved back from the table and went to the door, bumping into someone on the way out. He knew Cas was behind him. He could feel him. Of course he could. He made it to Baby, got the key in the door and then Cas was on him, arms sliding around his waist, pulling him back against his wide, solid chest even as he shoved Dean forward against the car. Cas kissed his neck, open and wet mouthed, groaning at the taste of his skin and Dean almost fell. His head tipped to the side in some sort of strange primal surrender and his free hand went back, landing awkwardly on Cas’ ass as he tried to pull him closer, tighter, harder against him.

“You’re _mine_. I went to Harrow Hell for you, I’d go back again,” Cas growled and then there were teeth on his neck and hands sliding over his, linking their fingers together.

“I know, I know,” he managed, feeling a shudder of lust roll through him, his cock hard and suddenly aching. “Please, Cas. Please.” _Please don’t do this to us_ , or _please don’t listen when I push you away_ , he didn’t know what he wanted, what he meant. But maybe Cas would. Maybe that was the lesson here, that he needed to give in, needed to trust. If he really had faith in Cas, wasn’t that what he should do?

“What else?” Cas demanded, and his hands roamed Dean possessively. Over his chest, across his nipples and down his stomach cupping his erection in his hand. He made a desperate sound and had no idea what he was supposed to say. Cas whirled him around, back against the Impala and cupped Dean’s face in his hands. “What else?” His eyes were dark in the night, burning through Dean, looking deep into him, probably to his very fucking soul.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m yours. _Yours_. Til the end. Whenever that is. Say it,” Cas demanded.

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t. He wasn’t even sure why but there was a lump in his throat and saying anything was impossible. He kissed Cas instead, hungry, needy, no finesse at all, just open mouth, tongue and desperation. Tried to tell him with the press of his body that he gave up, that he wouldn’t fight anymore. Wouldn’t try to pretend Cas wasn’t his salvation. The best thing he’d ever been given. And he’d cling onto him until the end. “I’m yours,” Dean managed.

His smile was beatific. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“You’re a real jerk sometimes you know that?”

“I do. You taught me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Maybe we should, um, focus on teaching you some new things.”

And then Cas kissed him and for just that moment, everything was perfect.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has kind of been making me nuts. This chapter was up for a small fraction of time and then i took it down because i wasn't happy with it and I just tried to end the story, thinking i wanted to move on. But a few weeks have passed and I guess I got it sorted out a bit so here it is!

Castiel stepped back, forced his arms to relinquish his hold on Dean and took a deep breath as he tried to calm his body. Dean made a sound, one of protest if he had to guess, but then he too seemed to gather himself together. He sniffed, slapped a hand against his face, wiping away the emotions Castiel had demanded from him.

Knowing that he’d made Dean so upset was difficult. It made him wonder if he’d made a mistake. Surely, if this were _that_ painful then it couldn’t be the right decision? And yet, there was another part of him that felt victorious, as if he’d just defeated some impossible foe because Dean was now his. After all this time, the deaths and the fights, they were at a new point in their relationship. One he’d not known he’d wanted until he was human. And then, even after he’d discovered that he wanted Dean carnally, he hadn’t thought it was possible. He’d been rejected.

But that had been a lie. The reality was that Dean did want him but was terrified. Castiel couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to keep pushing and pushing, see what truths he’d get from Dean if he could get past the fear and defensiveness. He didn’t like that train of thought, at all. He wanted Dean to want him happily, give himself freely. But that day, wasn’t going to be today, clearly. “We should get some pie before going back to the bunker,” Cas said. He saw Dean nod and so he went around to the other side of the car and got in, turning to look at Dean because he wasn’t even attempting to start the car. The keys were in his lap, his hands cradling them, his shoulders almost slumped a little as he stared out the windshield.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked.

Very slowly, Dean turned his head. His jaw was tight, lips a firm line. Hard. Impenetrable. The mask he usually wore, the armor that he’d gotten better at erecting over the years was slotting into place. He remembered, vividly, the look of vulnerability Dean used to have for Cas and for the world. How Dean wore his emotions on his sleeve. But that Dean was gone, experience and devastation had taught him how to protect himself, give the illusion of impenetrability.

And Castiel had smashed through that, forced Dean to be vulnerable and open and now he needed a moment, a minute to put himself back together again so he could be the illusion of the man he thought he was supposed to be. Castiel nodded in understanding, kept his hands to himself, looked out the window and a minute later Dean jammed the key into the ignition, turned up the radio to an absurd volume and peeled out of the parking lot.

They stopped at a diner several miles away, a few giant trucks parked in the distance and a couple of beat up cars in the lot. Wally’s Pancake Bazaar the sign read, the W flashing intermittently. “Do they have pie here?” Castiel asked.

Dean gave him his most charming and aloof grin, his macho, devil may care mask fixed in place. “Indeed they do.” He got out of the car and strode rather cockily to the door, opening it and holding it open in a deeply disinterested, after thought kind of way, as if he were being civil because he had to, as if Cas were a stranger.

“Anywhere, you like fellas,” A woman called and Dean slipped into a booth and looked at the menu.

“What is good here?” Cas asked.

“I don’t care. I don’t even think I want pie,” Dean murmured.

Castiel dropped his menu onto the table, the very gesture itself exclaiming bullshit. “You always want pie.”

A muscle ticked in Dean’s jaw and he rolled his eyes. “Right. Because you always know what I want.”

“I didn’t say that. I _wouldn’_ t say that.”

“What can I get you?” the waitress asked.

“Coffee for me and a piece of every variety of pie you have,” Castiel said, looking her in the eye. Her brows rose.

“We have 8 kinds of pie.”

“Good. That’s what we want.”

“And how about you?” she asked, turning to Dean.

“Don’t suppose you have a fifth of whiskey back there, do you?”

“No, but I got a slice of rum raisin coming your way.”

“Desperate times. Fine. Coffee, I guess.” He muttered, handing her the menu. As soon as she was out of earshot, Dean leaned forward. “Why did you order every damned type of pie?”

“Because this is a big turning point in our relationship. I thought it would be nice to have the evening end on something uncomplicated and positive. That the evening wasn’t all…”

“Ultimatums and crying like a little girl?” Dean said, the hostility rather pointed.

Cas sighed. “Considering how frequently we all get beat up by women, I’m not sure that’s the expression to use.”

“Fine. Ultimatums and crying like a muscular lumberjack. Or Sam.”

“After we eat this pie do you think you will be happier?”

Dean said something under his breath and Cas didn’t bother to pay attention to it as it wasn’t very complimentary. He leaned towards Dean, whispering to him over the table top. “Let me put it this way, if you don’t wind up in a better mood, I’ll—“

“What? Leave me? Again?”

Cas paused, looked at Dean intently. He’d been going to say he would kiss him again. Frankly, Dean’s answer was more than a little surprising. Dean had his arms spread along the back of the booth like he was claiming it all. Manspreading at it’s worst. And yet, his hand was a tight fist of insecurity.

“No, no more leaving.”

“Uh huh. And we get back to the bunker and you’re going to what? Move your trench coat into my room and loom over me every night?” A blush rose in his cheeks. “While I sleep, I mean,” he said, gruffly.

Castiel couldn’t stop the smile. The waitress showed up with the coffee, pouring them two cups and then walking away. Dean was staring into his cup. “I’m happy to loom over you as often as you like,” he said, and Dean choked on the coffee, coughing hard as a few drops landed on the beaten up table top. Dean grabbed a napkin, wiped his face and the table, while he continued to cough.

“You alright there?” The waitress asked, as she set down a giant platter filled with pieces of pie and a large mound of vanilla ice cream in the middle.

“Yeah. Thanks. Wow. That’s…that’s a lot of pie.” Cas could see the reluctant excitement in Dean’s face, felt glad as Dean leaned forward to examine them all, fork already in his hand. _This_ at least was the right decision. The waitress started naming them all but it didn’t matter, Dean was already a bite in, moaning happily before she’d even gotten to the apple. She stopped talking, shrugged and walked away.

“Okay,” Dean said, through a full mouth, “I hate to admit it, but this was a good idea.”

“Good. I hope it’s just the beginning.”

Dean paused, fork in his mouth. “Beginning of what?” he mumbled, setting the fork down onto the tray.

“Beginning of many positive experiences that we will have together. I want to give you what you want,” Cas said, and took a bite of pie.

Dean made a harrumphing sound. “Sure. And what will you get out of it?”

“You. Happy. The satisfaction of knowing I’ve done something right.”

Dean laughed, the sound bitter. “Am I the something you’re going to do right? Because you’re going to be pretty unsatisfied I suspect.”

“Why? What do you mean by that?” He was pretty sure Dean was trying to say something negative about himself, how he could never be good enough for Castiel. Which was such utter bullshit he wasn’t about to let that go without some push back.

“No, no, no. Never mind. I’m not doing this again. The emotional bullshit. I just want to eat the fucking pie, get the largest doggy bag ever so we can eat it for breakfast and…go home.”

Cas picked up his fork and took a bite of the peach pie. It wasn’t bad. All the peaches came from the same orchard which was nice. Narrowed down the flavors quite a bit. He tried to be patient but Dean was apparently not going to continue this conversation on his own. Cas put the fork down. “What will happen when we get back to the bunker?”

Dean licked his lips. “What do you want to happen?”

“I want to be with you. I want to have a physical relationship with you that includes sex and comfort.” Dean blushed, which was very attractive. But he didn’t say anything. They needed to have this conversation and he suspected Dean would look for any opportunity to change the topic. “Is that something you want?” Castiel prodded.

Dean nodded once, sharply. “I can’t believe how difficult this is. I think…I think I’m just going to keep running away from you. And that’s not…no one wants that. It’s exhausting and, and if I’m not careful you’ll think I don’t want you. And that’s just about as far from true as possible.”

He tried to do the linguistical gymnastics to figure out what Dean actually meant. “You want me, physically, but are concerned you won’t be able to convey that you want me?”

“Well, I mean, I could do…things that might convey it. But what if I push you away or you get sick of always making the first move? I know what type of relationship you should have. Someone who smiles easily and is affectionate, who is obviously proud to be your partner and I want to be that for you. But it’s hard man. It’s going to be really hard.” Dean swallowed, spoke to the table. “I don’t know if I can do that. And why wouldn’t you get fed up with me?”

“Because I love you and you’re worth the hassle.”

Dean snorted. “Not feeling any need to deny it, huh?”

Cas shook his head, smiling gently at Dean. “No, I don’t think so. You’re being honest with me. I’m going to take you at your word. I can usually tell if you’re deflecting, you know.”

“And if you can’t? We’ve seen a lot of shit. It’d be pretty stupid to wear my heart on my sleeve when the world is typically searching for my weaknesses in order to break me,” he said, voice slipping into that deep, defensive register.

“Exactly!” Cas said, relieved that Dean understood what he meant. “But I’m not human. And even though I’ve experienced what it was like to be human, it wasn’t for very long and I don’t think anyone would congratulate me on doing a good job of it.”

“They say adulting is hard. Humaning is worse,” Dean said, before taking another bite of pie. Cas smiled at him, pleased that Dean was trying to make him feel better. Dean was a nurturer. A grumpy nurturer but one nonetheless. “I will try to be as emotionally honest with you as I can. I’m going to act on my instincts and try to be a….good boyfriend,” Cas said, “But I am worried you won’t tell me if I’m pushing you or making you uncomfortable. And yet, if I don’t push this relationship forward then we will get nowhere. I want to get somewhere,” Cas said, softly.

Dean reached out, squeezed Cas’ hand that was sitting on the table and hastily drew it back, looking around nervously like someone might have seen him. “I want that too.”

Cas sighed, hoping he could get this next part right. He felt a little nervous about it. “I think, for a while at least, that our relationship will be…have you read Fifty Shades of Gray?”

“Holy fuck. _What_?” Dean demanded, hissing the last word at him.

“I was trying to educate myself on romantic gestures and the culture of romance. Twilight was popular and although it was a heterosexual pairing, Bella was human and Edward was not. But Fifty Shades of Gray actually came from Twilight and so I looked at that relationship as well, and—”

“ _No one_ thinks that’s a good relationship. And certainly not people into…kinky stuff.”

“I’m aware. But Christian kept pushing Anastasia. He was convinced he was right. That they were meant to be. He was relentless. And I don’t see how this can work without me behaving that way for a little while at least. So I think we should have a safe word in case it’s all too much,” he said, relieved he’d gotten the words out. He thought it had sounded reasonable and Dean was still sitting there and hadn’t bolted into the night.

“You think I want to be dominated?” Dean finally asked, sounding confused.

“Oh, I really have no idea,” Cas paused, hesitated, stared at Dean and the way he blushed under Cas’ scrutiny. “Well, maybe. That is something we can come back to. I mean _emotionally_ if I am coming on too strong or upsetting you and you need a break. You should be able to say the word red, or perhaps Impala.”

“What? Why would I have Impala be my safe word? Wouldn’t it be Baby?”

Cas considered it, then shook his head. “Could get confusing. Red, yellow and green are standard.”

“I don’t understand. So it isn’t physical? This is like an emotional safe word?”

“Exactly. If you feel like I’m going to make you upset again and you need space, then you can use your safe word. I am expecting this relationship to be quite difficult for you and for me, considering how defensive we’ve become and the things we have been through. All I can do is try, and I need to know that I’m not causing you emotional harm by trying to kiss you or hug you when you look like you want to punch me. I am open to other options, Dean.” He took a breath, hoped he could convey with his words, the emotion on his face, how much he wanted this to work. “How can I know when you really want me to leave you alone or give you space or if it’s just because you feel insecure or like you don’t deserve it?”

Dean was looking rather pale now, and a little stunned as he blinked at Cas. Cas put his hand over Dean’s, spoke to him softly. “I have watched you for many years, Dean. You are my gateway into so many feelings and experiences. And when we are together I want _more_ ,” Cas said, shrugging, the word not specific or all-encompassing enough to explain what he meant. Not really. “But you have a tendency to go still or retreat. If I pursue you, I need to—“

“Sounds to me like you boys are going to want that pie to go,” the waitress said, coming out of nowhere. Dean flinched, face turning bright red.

“Please,” Cas said, not bothering to look away from Dean.

“So…so this isn’t a sex thing,” Dean asked, voice quiet.

“No, I’ve not really gotten to that part of it yet. I’ve been doing research and have a number of things I would like to try but—“

Dean interrupted him, “Okay, fine. Impala means give me some space or…whatever.”Dean said, turning in his seat to survey the diner. “Where is she with that bill?”

“You’re ready to go?”

“Yeah, you said you have lots of things you want to try. And I’m definitely on board with that.” He smiled, soft and seductive then gave Cas a wink that he confessed made his breath catch in his chest, “and if you need a break, then _you_ can say Impala.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Now what?” Dean asks, as soon as they hit the kitchen. He puts the pie in the fridge and then he goes to the sink, gets a glass of water and drinks it. Instantly Dean feels nauseous. Cas has been quiet and while Dean is sure he’s in the kitchen he’s not sure of what his exact location is and it’s making him anxious. Something is going to happen tonight and he wants it more than he’s potentially wanted anything ever in his life.

This, with Cas, is just for him. It’s theirs alone. Something good and even though he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t have it in him to stop it. Not now. Dean turns a little, wanting to see him out of the corner of his eye. Turning to face him seems to be too much at the moment. He doesn’t know what Cas would see on his face, if he would guess how much fear and longing are both battling inside of him.

Has this always been his life? Wanting something while being terrified at the same time? Terrified of having and losing, terrified of not being enough even if he gives 150%. When has he _ever_ been the one that was truly wanted? His father loved Sam more. Loved Mary more. Mary loves…well, he doesn’t know. But it’s not them as they are now. She loves memories and versions of them they can never be. Cas loves what?

He hears him then, walking up behind him. He feels Cas at his back, feels the folds of that trench coat brush against his back, the ass of his jeans. The glass in his hand is trembling and he tries to hold it steady.

Cas’ hand appears to the left of him, holding onto the sink, boxing him in on that side. His heart clenches, his stomach doing something odd and then he feels a puff of air against the right side of his neck and every hair on his body stands on end.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, and it may be no more than a breath of sound, but to him, it’s gunshot loud. The tone of it pierces him in the heart. His body clenches. The glass slips from his hand but Cas catches it and sets it down on the counter. Then he’s back, lips pressing so lightly against Dean’s neck.

Dean’s eyes close and his head drops to the side, baring his neck in invitation. Cas kisses him harder, pulls the skin into his mouth gently, teeth grazing and tongue sweeping lightly over the flesh in apology and then hunger over and over again.

“Oh fuck,” Dean manages and he uses both hands to hold onto the sink, worried he might collapse.

“I need to touch you,” Cas growls against him and Dean whimpers. “Is that alright?” Cas asks, Dean’s trembling in anticipation, waiting for a touch that isn’t coming. Will it be hard or soft? Is he going to continue to keep it one-sided, have Dean be vulnerable and bare his back or is he going to turn Dean, make him kiss him back and participate? He wants everything.His cock is hardening in his jeans, so fast he shifts on his feet, his jeans uncomfortably tight.

“Dean. Can I?”

“Of course,” he whispers, eyes shut. And it suddenly hits him why Cas is confused. What he’s been saying this evening about Dean not encouraging or really even participating. Even now, he’s just…passive.

He blinks his eyes open and is about to turn around when Cas is back, mouth on his neck, crowding against him closely, closer. Chest pressed to his back, hand on his waist and pulling him back as his fingers sink into Dean’s hip. And then he feels the hard bar of Cas’ cock against his ass and he wonders if this is why people have anal sex. So they can feel totally overwhelmed by their partner. He’s panting and shoving his neck against Cas’ mouth. His free arm wraps around Dean’s waist, pulling him back and pressing them so tightly against each other that Dean fears he’s about to come just from this coiling tension of Cas trying to be closer, wanting him more desperately.

“Fuck. Love that you want me,” he whimpers and Cas’ breath comes faster, Dean feels a jerk in Cas’ pants as he wedges his cock hard against Dean’s ass. Cas’ hand leaves his hip, goes under his shirt and skates across his stomach and up his chest in a light tease. Fingers graze over his nipple and it’s the most impossible feeling going through him, arcing like a hot line of electricity to his cock.

“Is that your grace or something?” Dean manages.

Cas doesn’t stop kissing his neck, he rubs his nose against the skin too, breathing in deeply and then he’s biting at dean’s shoulder, not exactly hard, but just to sort of keep him there or express his sexual frustration on Dean’s skin. Which is far hotter than it should be.

“Oh come on, please, please, Cas,” Dean says, one hand dropping down to his crotch, palming himself through his jeans.

“It’s only me. Just my touch,” Cas says, fingers on his nipple, nail scraping slightly around the flesh. “Another time. I’ll put my grace in you. If you want it.”

“I do. I want it. Want you,” he says, and he knows it sounds horrible. It doesn’t sound like current or wavelengths they’re talking about. It sounds like cock. Like Cas is offering to put his cock in Dean. And like Dean is saying yes to _that._ And _that_ is something he’s never allowed anyone to do. When he was a demon he fucked guys. Hell, he fucked Crowley. And once, just once, when he was way too drunk, Crowley had put something inside him, talked about howhe was going to open Dean up and pin him with his cock and it hadn’t happened because Dean had come so hard he almost passed out. It had been so good. Too good.

And once the demon was gone and he was himself again, that door slammed shut, padlocked, key thrown away, sort of closed. Those things— fucking and anal and men was something the evil version of him did. Wrong Dean.

But that’s not what Cas is offering and it’s not how he’d feel if he let Cas inside him. “I want you too,” Cas whispers, and his hips roll against Dean’s ass. “Want everything with you.”

“You can have me, Cas. Anything you want, I promise you I want it too. Just start and I’ll go along happily. I’ll be in it, be with you all the way.”

“Then get your hand off your cock,” Cas says, and Dean realizes he’s got fingers cupping his sac and his forearm pressing and relaxing against his shaft in a steady rhythm that’s both frustrating and necessary.

“No…what then? What do I touch?” he asks, voice slurred, totally confused. Lust has made everything so difficult to understand.

“Turn around. Touch me.”

Dean turns and his lips find Cas, kiss him hungrily, his tongue slipping into Cas’ mouth, wet and sloppy as his body trembles. Cas makes a small moan of approval and his hands are between them. He’s opening Dean’s pants, shoving them down to mid-thigh and all Dean can do is pant hard into Cas’ mouth. Cas hand wraps around him snugly and he almost comes, just like that. He kisses Cas’ jaw and then his neck, his hands pulling at Cas’ shirt, hands sliding up and finally touching his flesh. Healthy and strong. He puts a hand over his heart and the feel of it pumping, so human, so alive is enough to make tears come to his eyes.

He wants to feel Cas’ pulse. Needs that. He pushes Cas back, looks him in the eyes, tries to convey how determined he is as he slips down to the ground, on his knees even though the floor is fucking hard. He fumbles at Cas’ pants, gets the belt open, then the button, then the zipper and he pulls them down, mouth open and needing before his cock is even out. He gets a quick look once he gets him free of his clothing but then his mouth is there, lips wrapped around his hard, hot skin. The cock jerks in his mouth and he feels a spurt of pre come slip onto his tongue. He swallows, he sucks hard, wanting more in his mouth, in his stomach.

“Dean. So good,”Cas says, and his hand is on Dean’s face, on his head, hips thrusting shallowly as he fucks Dean’s face. His hand drops down, he needs to touch himself. Needs to come. Cas rests a hand on his cheek and the touch is odd, a buzz, _that’s_ grace.

He moans loud and long as he feels it. That touch of healing, of love, of divinity, the reminder that Cas is other and better and pure. He feels the cool warmth of it slide into him, like it’s cool on the outside and then leaves behind heat and it slips all through him, runs over him like water and coalesces at his core. His balls are suddenly heavy, weighted with seed and his cock is throbbing in his hand, pulsing not just to his own heartbeat but to Cas’ too. He looks up, has to pull off Cas cock and see his face.

That gentle smile. “Does it feel good?”

“It’s…too much, not enough and—fuck!” he says, and then he’s grabbing his cock hard, jerking it as he feels himself coming hard and long, totally overwhelmed. He rests his face against Cas’ thigh and then mouths at Cas’ hard cock, takes him back in, wishes Cas would just fuck his face. Take the decision away from him and do what feels good to him. “Want to make you feel good, Cas,” he says, pulling off and then pushing himself back onto Cas’ cock, pressing as far as he can, wanting to take more and more. He looks up at him, tries to convey how willing he is, how happy it would make him to know he was making Cas happy.

“You want me to show you how much I need you? I do. I….” he pauses, eyes squeezing tight and then opening again. “You’re so beautiful down there.”

Cas thrusts shallowly even as his hands grip Dean’s head tighter. He knows Cas is being careful with him, trying to let Dean feel his desperation and need even as he’s gentle and tries to not press too far. Because Dean’s pleasure will always be the most important thing to Castiel.

He hums, hoping it sounds like some sort of strange sexual gratefulness, if there is such a thing and then he feels Cas cock pulse in his mouth, on his tongue and then he’s coming in Dean’s mouth and Dean is swallowing it all. He isn’t sure he likes it. It’s bitter and so fucking male and he knows this isn’t the sort of thing he can just ignore or hand wave away. Nothing makes him more gay than this, swallowing his lover’s come and feeling pride in a job well done. Swallowing it and wishing there was more even though it’s slimy and bitter. Why does it make his cock try to harden again?

He slumps off Cas’ cock, rests his head against Cas’ thigh and is seriously contemplating taking a nap there when Cas pushes him back a little, one hand on his shoulder keeping him upright as he tries to fix his clothing with one hand. It doesn’t go well but Dean is so fucked out, so deep in some sort of haze he can’t even help or laugh or be in any way useful. Somehow, Cas manages and then he’s hauling Dean up to his feet, he’s lifting Dean like he’s a god damned Disney princess. He murmurs a complaint and is completely ignored. His pants are up but unbuttoned. How? When?

Cas carries him through the silent bunker to Dean’s room and rests him gently on the bed. “You better by staying here with me tonight,” Dean says and Cas chuckles. Now there is a sound Dean would happily dedicate his life attempting to get him to replicate it again and again. Cas lays down beside him, puts his trench coat over the both of them and wraps an arm around Dean’s waist.

“You’re here,” Dean says, in wonder.

“I’m here,” Cas says and Dean hears it echoing through his dreams.


End file.
